Duncan (Immortal Highlander Clan MacMar #5)

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

T he clan’s healer was proving far more perceptive than Nicole thought, and Duncan’s sudden interest in her promised even more trouble for her. Since he obviously only wanted to use her ability to eliminate his own weakness, she could manage him, but she would have to keep her distance as well. She didn’t understand why that depressed her; it wasn’t as if she wanted to be around the handsome healer.

Why do I want to touch him every time he’s near me?

He took a braided length of thin leather from a box and brought it over to her. “This shall do, I think. With your permission, my lady?” When she nodded he stepped behind her, and started weaving something through the two back panels, drawing them together as he did. “’Tis soon time for the evening meal. Shall I bid a maid bring you a tray?”

The brush of his fingertips on the skin of her back sent bright shafts of heat and a river of deep, aching desire through her body.

“I’m not very hungry, thank you.” She tried not to shiver, but with him touching her it was becoming almost impossible. “While we were talking, Caroline suggested that all the women who came to the island from my time needed to heal and be healed by the clansman they first met. I don’t think that applies to you and me.”

His hands stilled for a moment, and then he asked, “Why say you such?”

“Other than the attempt on my life, I haven’t suffered betrayal or heartbreak in my past. I have only one friend, a cousin, and our relationship is mostly superficial. Since I graduated from college I’ve been working to help others, but otherwise I don’t get involved with people.” She waited for him to agree, and when he didn’t she prompted, “Are you any different?”

“Other than outliving a few mortal lovers, none of whom I loved, I’ve no tragedies in my past. My brother Nyall and I oft agree on matters, but we’re no’ close. With my work I’ve no time for friends. It seems we’re much the same.” He finished lacing up her gown, and turned her around to inspect the front of her bodice. “You’re a maiden, then?”

It took her a moment to realize what he meant.

Nicole wanted to tell him to mind his own business, but seeing the way his eyes darkened made her heartbeat quicken. Was he already imagining he’d become her lover, like the other MacMar men had with the ladies they’d rescued? Was he asking so he could offer to be her first? Where his wrist pressed against her arm she discovered his pulse throbbing as quickly as hers. If she didn’t watch herself and him, she wouldn’t be a maiden much longer.

“I’ve never been intimate with anyone.” Saying it that way was supposed to sound cold and indifferent, but her voice had gone husky. Being a virgin at twenty-four didn’t embarrass her, but admitting as much seemed like a passive-aggressive invitation. As crisply as she could, she said, “That isn’t a priority for me.”

“You hold yourself above such.” He stepped back, but kept his hands on her arms. “’Tis good that you do. Taking a lover shall only complicate matters.”

He approved of her abstaining. Nicole tried to smile, but she wasn’t relieved. Her right hand had knotted into a shaking fist at her side, and all she could think was how much she wanted to hit him. Or were those his emotions, and she’d just absorbed them from him?

Why would he want to hit me for admitting I don’t want him or any other man?

He seemed angry without giving a hint of it on his face. His grip on her arms tightened almost to the point of pain, and he held himself so stiffly he might have been a statue of himself. Was he holding her away so she wouldn’t fling herself at him? Could he read her that well? Did he know how furious she’d become? Had he assumed he could say whatever he liked to her?

Was he laughing at her?

The hair stood up on the back of her neck, exactly as it did the few times in the past when she had lost her temper. She relaxed her hand and placed it on the left side of his chest, fanning her fingers across the fabric of his tunic, testing the hardness of the muscles under it. It relieved some of her anger to touch him like this, as if she could play the same game of torment and rejection. He looked down at her hand, and then met her gaze. His heart thumped faster.

Just like mine.

“If you mean what you said, then you should take your hands off me,” Nicole said, smiling up at him. “I’ve made my view on taking a lover quite clear. ”

He let go of her instantly.

“I’d never force my attentions on a lady.” He tucked in his chin to look at her hand. “Now you should offer me the same courtesy.”

“I will.” Nicole glided her hand from his chest to the back of his neck, and tugged down his head until they almost bumped noses. “I just want you to know that the act isn’t working.”

“Lass.” The word that came from his lips sounded strangled. “Dinnae tempt me.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night because I keep thinking about us, together, in my bed. You’ve got dark shadows under your eyes, so the same must be happening to you. If we keep ending up alone together with one of us half-naked, we might break all the promises we’ve made to ourselves. So, please stop pushing me.”

Nicole could see she’d made her point. Now she would let go of him, and leave. Right now. At once.

She didn’t get the chance to do either of those things. Duncan lifted her up off her feet and carried her over to the exam table, putting her down on the edge as he pushed her legs apart. He stepped in, the hard ridge of his erection pressing into her crotch. Only the wool of his trousers and the linen of her skirt separated their bodies, and through those flimsy layers the heat of him burned into her. He didn’t rub against her, but he didn’t have to. She was on the verge of climaxing. Was he?

This was the sexiest, most shocking thing a man had ever done to her, Nicole thought. That’s why she couldn’t tell him to back off. That’s why she’d slid her fingers down his chest to his waist. In another moment she’d have her hand inside his trousers. How would it be, to hold him while he was so stiff and hard? Would she squeeze him, or stroke him?

“Do you desire me ravish you?” Duncan muttered.

“I don’t know.” Her temper flared even higher. “I’ve never done this.”

“I smell your sweetness, my lass,” he murmured. “You’ve gone wet with your desire.”

“Yes, and you’re hard for me,” she countered. “Only I’m not having sex with you, Healer MacMar.”

“Nor I with you, Mistress Fairburn. If you cannae sleep, I shall give you the herbs you need for slumber.” His hands moved around to her back, and he splayed them over the makeshift lacing as he pressed her breasts against the vault of his chest. That made the gap between their mouths only an inch. “Only ken that I want naught more than come inside you now, and give you the pleasure you crave.”

His breath warmed her lips, and for a moment Nicole grew dizzy. This was what she’d always tried to avoid by not getting involved with any man; this wildness that he’d brought out of her. The desires seemed excruciating, as if she were being burned from the inside out. The impulse to fling aside all common sense and tell him to unlace her gown so he could see her breasts almost overtook her. She needed him to look at her, and touch her, and put his mouth on her. Only he could end this intolerable need.

How can I go on if he doesn’t?

A rattling sound behind her cleared some of the passionate haze from her brain, and seemed to do the same for Duncan, whose arms fell to his sides as he turned and strode over to the big black cabinet. Nicole stared after him for a long moment, her emotions snarling, and then without another word she quickly got off the table and fled the infirmary.

I cannot do this, she thought as she hurried down the passages. I have to go back to the twenty-first century and save Dad from Hudson. I don’t have time for an affair.

On her way to the guest room she imagined every guard was staring at her with knowing smiles, but they couldn’t have known what she had just done. Had almost just done. Had barely avoided doing. No, it was her imagination.

“Mistress Fairburn.” Nyall appeared out of nowhere and fell into step beside her. “My wife told me your true name, as well as how you healed that nag,” he said when she eyed him. “I’m glad you’ve recovered from that dreadful wound.”

“Are you?” Reaching the door to the guest room, she turned to face him. “I suspect no one else is. Your seneschal looks at me like I’m carrying bubonic plague, and your laird speaks to me as if I brought with me a secret army to siege your castle. Your healer…” She didn’t know enough hateful words to describe his behavior.

His brows rose. “You’ve trouble with Duncan?”

“Frankly, Captain, I’m sick of everyone and everything.” She was also close to shouting, so she turned and jerked open the door.

Nyall didn’t follow her inside, but stood in the doorway watching her as she went over to add some wood to the hearth. “How may I help, Mistress?”

She glanced at him, sure he was joking. “You expect me to believe that you actually want to?”

He leaned against the jamb and folded his arms. “My wife, she’s vouched for you. I trust her judgment above all others, even my own kin.”

“It was nice of Caroline to do that.” Suddenly exhausted, she sat down by the hearth and propped her head in her hands. “Captain, I have to get off this island as soon as possible. If you know of some way to return me to my time, I will be eternally grateful.”

“I shall speak with the laird and ask him send you to the mainland as soon as our ferryman may take you,” Nyall promised. “The MacMar dinnae make use of the unwilling. ’Tis been a long-standing rule that any mortal who wishes leave Caladh may go. I reckon our allies among the magic folk may permit you use one of their time portals to return to your time.”

That was what Lark had meant when she’d mentioned the druids on the mainland possibly being of help, Nicole thought. Why hadn’t Duncan mentioned anything about this?

Because he doesn’t want me to leave.

“Please do,” Nicole said, “and thank you, Captain.”

Walking down the ramp of the mortal’s leaky, moldy vessel to step onto the island of pigs allowed Derdrui to relax for the first time since they had set sail. She despised the seas of the mortal realm with all of her being, and yet she would not lower herself to show even the slightest hint of emotion in front of these pitiful creatures. Here she walked as a queen among slaves, a conqueror among the cowering. All of her power seethed inside her now as she surveyed the grubby dockside town. From the scorched, collapsed condition of many of the structures, part of the place had burned to the ground during her absence. Even now some of the Cait Sith hurried about with buckets of sand, dousing the hovels still smoldering.

She had not bothered to put the squat, ugly buildings to the torch before they had sailed for the mainland. Perhaps lightning had tried to cleanse the place in her honor.

“Bring me a strong male,” she said as she started toward the inn where she had left the corpses of the raiders that had so amused her during her previous stay.

The waddling shadow of the ungainly halfling following her stopped beside her own svelte darkness.

“Forgive me, my sovereign,” the pathetic bitch said, “but I fear during your last visit you butchered all of the mortals here, as well as the Viking that came raiding.”

Derdrui clenched her teeth to hold back a flaying spell that would strip Speal of every inch of her skin. Once her sorely-strained patience returned, she said, “Then send your sisters to take one from another island. Tell them to bring another dozen as well for the week ahead.”

“All the mortals on the surrounding islands have fled to the mainland, Princess,” another, sweeter voice said .

She glanced over her shoulder at the small shifter that had been taken and transformed by the aquatic immortal. “Did you drive them away, Runt?”

Dearg bowed and then smiled at her, showing a mouthful of shark’s teeth. “No, Princess. We took a few for our master, so he might change them, but the vanishings frightened the others, and they fled.”

“You dare deprive me of my entertainment?” The sound of her voice bounced off the walls of the remaining structures. “Shall you serve in their place?”

“I didnae wish offend you, Princess.” The little monstrosity cowered, but not before giving the fat one beside her a sly look. “Forgive me, I beg you.”

She drew herself up, annoyed that she had permitted the creature to provoke her. “Go back to your master, and bid him deliver as many mortals as he took and changed.” As the small shifter hurried off, she regarded Speal. “I’ve warned you of what shall happen if I grow too bored.”

“Aye, and I’ve seen what becomes of you after you glut yourself on too many mortals.” The shifter planted her plump fists on her broad hips. “We cannae permit you become pished again, my sovereign. I fear you must suffer a few hours of deprivation.”

Derdrui nearly blasted the fat, insolent slut with a spell to burn off her gloating face, but her magic had not always proven equal to her desires here in the mortal realm. With Fiacail serving Duxor, and the remaining Cait Sith turned against her, she could not afford to lose her last ally among them—even if she was almost as unwilling as the others.

“Bring me something I can torment,” she said. “Anything that breathes and fears pain.”

Speal bowed, and trudged off. That left her to make her way into the inn alone, which aggravated her, but a simple flick of her fingers burst open the doors and tossed aside anything that lay in her path. It seemed she had not grown as weak as she’d assumed. She had to climb stairs to reach the chamber she had formerly occupied, and the familiar, comforting stench of mortal dead still perfumed the air in the passages. Yet when she snapped her wrist to fling open the door, the smell of the sea struck her in her face.

Everything inside the chamber appeared dripping wet, as if a flood had swallowed the entire inn.

Derdrui’s skin shrank from the damp saltiness of the air; sea water had always been her only weakness. The Cait Sith hated it as much as she did, so they would not have done this. Dearg, the little fiend, had lost her fear and loathing of the ocean. Such an act would be in keeping with her sly nature. The sound of someone scurrying down the hall made fury rise inside her.

She would show that tiny monster what happened to those who defied and ridiculed her.

A few moments later Derdrui walked out of the inn, followed by a cloud of black smoke. Some of the Cait Sith hurried over to her, and one stared behind her as flames roared out of the inn’s windows.

“Princess, did someone attack you?” one asked.

“If they tried, they now burn.” She gave the Cait Sith a gentle smile. “Find me another dwelling where I may rest in comfort, or you shall join them.” She went still as a small figure emerged from one of the upper floor windows.

“Och, didnae all the raiders die?” Dearg asked as she joined them, and stared at the burning inn with wide eyes.

A young boy bared pointed teeth as he climbed over the sill and jumped to the ground, where he collapsed. Smoke rose from his ragged, burning clothes, and one of the shifters tossed a bucket of sand over him to extinguish the flames.

“Oh, lad,” Speal muttered. “Why didnae you flee the place?”

The sharp-toothed thing grinned up at her, and then dissolved into a puddle of water.

“Search the town and assure he was the only one left,” Derdrui told Speal, and then beckoned to Dearg. “You, come with me.”

Duncan barred the door to the infirmary before he unlocked and opened the doors to his cabinet of Fae objects to see which had stirred to life, and why. Once placed inside, none of the debris he collected had ever come to life, although last month he’d neglected to close the cabinet once. When that had happened, an egg created by the melia had fallen out and hatched. The imp inside had been particularly vicious, even for a servant of the woodland Fae, but he and Nyall had managed to capture and end it before it attacked any mortals.

A sense of something gone amiss nagged at him as he surveyed the collection. It was as if he’d forgotten to place an object inside, but couldn’t remember failing to do so with any object brought to him. Nor did anything inside the cabinet explain the noise that had come from it; everything sat in its place. The red pendant had not reappeared, either. Then a broken chain spun from green garnets slithered out of one of the compartments, which he caught before it hit the floor. It glimmered briefly on his palm, and the smell of green things and spring filled the infirmary .

Where the chain had been kept a small gray mouse appeared, its whiskers trembling as it peered out with its little black eyes and sniffed the air. Another mouse, this one white, joined it, and then a third that had black and brown-spotted fur squeezed between the pair. All three looked down at Duncan as if they had never before beheld a man.

“How did you three sneak inside?” he muttered, placing the broken chain in a different compartment. When he inspected the one where he’d kept it before, he saw bits of metal scattered at the bottom, and a hole in the very back of the cabinet that the rodents had gnawed through the wood. “Och, couldnae you settle for some of the herbs on my tincture shelf?”

As he spoke all three mice leapt from the cabinet to his arm, and then began climbing from there to his belly. Their tiny claws seemed unusually sharp, and stabbed through the fabric. When they sniffed him their front teeth gleamed as if they meant to bite him.

“I’m no’ a mortal, you silly vermin,” he told them. “You shouldnae act so fearless.”

The three mice scurried down his legs and jumped to the floor, where they again looked at him as if unsure of what he was. They then ran toward the door, squeezing under it before he could block their escape.

“Och, well, they’ll no’ go far.” He closed the doors and locked them before he took down a packet of the herbs he’d promised Nicole.

I couldn’t sleep last night because I keep thinking about us, together, in my bed.

To keep from doing the same he walked out to see where the three little creatures lingered in the passage. Across the stones lining the hall, three glowing sets of tiny tracks gleamed in glowing green and brown.

Duncan knelt down to inspect the marks, which smelled of the same spring-garden scent that the broken chain’s enchantment had spilled into the air. He thought back, and recalled that when Shaw had brought the chain to him it had not been broken but whole. He stood and followed the tracks, which led through several halls but never once scattered; the three mice seemed to be marching together toward some agreed-upon destination.

The tracks abruptly turned and disappeared under the door to the guest chamber where Nicole had been staying.

He considered summoning some guards to aid him in retrieving the mice, but that would waste time. The scent of the spring garden was also now growing stronger in the passage, and from the gap beneath the door he could see green and brown lights sparkling.

“My lady?” he called out as he tried to open the door, but it had been barred from inside. Taking out his sturdiest dagger, he used it to lift the bar inside just enough to allow him to force the door open.

Green and brown lights nearly blinded him as he rushed inside, and saw the mice jumping up and down as if they were trying to reach something. Over them floated a disheveled-looking Lark, who held an armful of folded garments, and had several thin, bloody scratches on her face. As she looked at him she lifted a finger to her lips, but at the same time the door slammed shut behind him. The mice turned to glare at him with their little eyes, which now glowed like ruby embers.

Get out, son of Mar, a high-pitched voice squealed inside his head.

He drew another dagger and held them ready as the three rodents crept toward him, and backed up until he stood just in front of the hearth. “Did you eat other things you found in the cabinet? My pendant, ’tis in your bellies?”

We’re hungry, another, equally shrill voice complained as the white mouse went up on its hind legs, and tiny fangs shot out of its mouth .

The other two did the same and, just as they leapt at him, Duncan pivoted away. A trio of screeches echoed inside his mind as the three mice landed in the flames, which instantly flared up and engulfed them. The scent of burning fur rolled out of the hearth, and a moment later they dissolved into ash.

“’Tis safe now, my lady,” he told the seamstress.

“Thank you.” Lark slowly lowered herself to the floor and gingerly touched the cuts on her face. “I brought some more clothes for Ms. Fairburn. When I bent down to pick up a ribbon I dropped, those mice rushed at me and clawed my face. My power didn’t work on them, so I lifted myself up to avoid worse. I didn’t dare call anyone inside or open the door to leave in case they got out and attacked others. They were bespelled, right?”

“Aye, from eating an enchanted chain in my black cabinet, I reckon.” As he placed the packet of sleeping herbs on the bed side table, he frowned. The rodents attacking the seamstress made no sense to him. The fact that her boon had no effect on them also troubled him deeply. “Did you hear any voices in your mind?”

“Yes, from all three of them. Lark placed the garments on the end of Nicole’s bed. “They demanded to know where I hid their child. Maybe they believed they served one of the melia on the island, because images of our forests kept flashing through my thoughts. I’m not sure what they meant by child.”

Where abides the child, Halfling? An imp that he and Nyall had recently captured had demanded that, and when he’d tried to question it, it had become furious. The child doesnae belong here. She carries my mistress’s magic. ’Twill end all you foolish halflings.

He didn’t want to alarm Fletcher’s wife, so he offered her his arm. “Come and permit me treat your wounds, my lady.”